


the spot next to you

by infinitehearts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, M/M, vik’s depression and yuuri’s anxiety are prominent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 08:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitehearts/pseuds/infinitehearts
Summary: sometimes all it takes to know yourself is to find the person who completes youakathe au where yuuri and viktor get together that day at the beach-written for the yoi reverse bang 2018-





	the spot next to you

Hasetsu was still warm, even in the early fall. It certainly wouldn’t be for much longer, and the beach would lose its appeal, but it was a little slice of heaven sometimes.

Yuuri just wasn’t sure that it would be for him very long.

After all, something was going on for Viktor to decide that they didn’t need to train before what would quite literally make or break his season.

He knew that there was no sense in arguing.

The sound of the Sea of Japan could lull him into sleep, it ripples so quietly without the changing of the tides. He’s pretty sure that he’s just been ignoring everything Viktor’s saying. It’s not like he means too… but Viktor the person is far more a part of Yuuri’s life now than Viktor the skater ever was. His stories are almost always the same. No matter how many times Yuuri patiently teaches him to tie his jinbei so that it doesn’t fall off, Viktor always returns to letting it fall off by the next night, and Yuuri’s ready to give up with trying to teach him, because he evidently just doesn’t care.

Who would have ever thought? The Living Legend Viktor Nikiforov not care about something? Never.

They say you should never meet your idols, because they’re only human. They’ll let you down, as much as anyone else will.

Yuuri feels as if he can finally see Viktor.

He’s certainly not perfect, but it makes him even moreendearing. Okasan keeps jam around just for him to put in his tea. Some mornings, it’s Yuuri who’s dragging him out of the bed, even though Viktor’s the coach and Yuuri’s just the student. It’s feeding Makkachin at the strangest hours, because Viktor can’t keep to a regular feeding schedule, no matter how hard he tries because he just forgets.

If only he could kiss him, oh, how often Yuuri would.

“So, what do you want me to be to you, Yuuri? A father figure?”

That draws his attention in like a whizzing bullet might.

“No.”

And yet, it’s not enough. He can’t answer honestly if he’s not got the chance to speak.

“A brother, then? A friend?”

“No.”

“So, your lover then, I guess. Alright, I’ll try my very best.”

That hit a nerve. So close, but not the right words.

“Viktor… I’m not looking for anything from you. You’re already doing so much for me. I don’t want you to be someone that you’re not for me. I just… I want to take care of you the want you take care of me. Let me be your… boyfriend. Let me be your boyfriend, even if I know I don’t deserve you! I promise that I’ll do all I can to make it worth it for you.”

It’s a lot of words, and maybe it doesn’t make nearly as much sense as he wants it to, but Viktor takes his hand and tugs him closer, so maybe it doesn’t matter.

~.~

It felt like everything had changed when they head back to the onsen. Yuuri was just… scared, Viktor thinks now, in retrospection. He knows he’d never feel the same way about something like this, but perhaps it’s because of how hollow he always feels. Yuuri, oh, Yuuri. He’s one of the few people who’ve ever made him feel anything since he got like this.

He’s hollow inside, a vessel without a heart to nurture. Yuuri, poor Yuuri, lets his heart spill out, all over and all at once, like he’s fine china full of cracks.

This season could change everything. Maybe, even though they’re both broken, they can help each other mend, or instead perhaps they’ll destroy each other just trying to feel loved.

Only time will tell.

After all, there’s plenty left to do this season, and it’s going to be a piece of work. Yuuri just can’t get out of his head, and Viktor wishes that he could finally get into his own head.

Equal, but opposite in so many ways.

This could be good. Maybe. But it won’t mean anything to Yuuri if he can’t make it through this qualifier, although Viktor can already doubt it’s difficultly, just looking around. There’s no way that Yuuri could lose, if he doesn’t decide to just flop down on the ice instead of skating on it.

It’d truly be best if he could coerce him to reduce the difficulty of the programs, just to let Yuuri have the time to build up some confidence.

Viktor knows telling him outright will make him cry. He just keeps going, even though there’s so much pressure on his shoulders. If only it were the kind of pressure Viktor could take for himself. He’s been miserable for a long time, and he doubts the kind of pressure that destroys Yuuri would destroy him so easily.

Viktor’s undoubtedly seen worse. What else would even be expected from someone as famous as he is? It’s still hard to comprehend, but over time, he’s learned it’s the haughtiness they want, not Viktor.

The masses wanted an icon, so he became one. He became everything that they expected, and then he felt empty.

Yuuri is the only thing that makes him feel whole anymore.

“Do what you think you can, Yuuri. I’m yours, aren’t I?”

“That’s not skating advice Viktor!”

He can’t hold back the hint of a smirk on his lips. Yuuri doesn’t need his coaching, considering he’s not very good at all. Stammi Vicino was built was a high technical value in mind, because he was so tired of relying on fake emotions to pull him into the first-place spots everyone expected him in. Yuuri learned that just fine on his own, and this season isn’t any different.

Yakov would know exactly what to do or say, but it was easy to tell Celestino had come to a point where he didn’t know what to do for Yuuri anymore.  Viktor thinks he falls somewhere in the middle. All he can do is follow his gut.

Yuuri simplifies the short program, but what he removes in technical score, he makes up for in presentation.

If he could have skated like this in Sochi, he could have takenhome at least the bronze medal.

If he’d skated the way he skated Stammi Vicino, back in Sochi, he would have stolen the gold straight out of Viktor’s hands.

After all, Yuuri could skate. Not just in a beginner kind of way, but in the kind of way that won medals. He’d seen it, with his own eyes back in Hasetsu.

If Yuri thought there was no one looking, all he wanted to do was stop. When Yuuri thought no one was looking, it was like his programs came to life with ease. Of course, they both still had plenty of room to learn, but it wasn’t something that always made sense. Sometimes, it was just something you had to find.

Like Viktor and his Japanese pronunciations.

Nothing else was quite like figuring something out for yourself.

~.~

The short program went far better than the free. Yuuri knew that his nerves got the better of him, even now, holding his gold medal up above his head.

He knew that he’d win, from the very beginning. He’d always won Regional qualifiers without any challenge. Maybe in a few years Minami could give him a little bit of a challenge, but he still doubted it. It didn’t matter, after all. Grand Prix placements would be coming out soon. He’d won his spot, since he didn’t even bother to try and get seeded at the end of last season.

No matter how many times Viktor had told him that it was alright, that he wasn’t leaving, not even if Yuri Plisetsky came back to Japan and got on his knees to beg.

(Yuuri, in the heat of the moment, had quipped back something about Viktor preferring to be on his knees instead. It had earned him a pillow to the face, and a pink dusting across Viktor’s cheeks. He’d almost apologized, but he filed it away for later instead.)

His stomach growled, but he couldn’t be bothered to move. Not without Viktor, at least. Their entire dynamic had changed since the beach, and Yuuri couldn’t say he didn’t like it.

He knew Phichit had always warned him to never meet his idol for fear that Viktor would let him down or hurt him, but this was something else entirely.

The person that he had fell in love with at twelve was the person he wanted to keep for life. It’d never been that Viktor was famous or handsome, although he’d always been both.

As the years passed, Yuuri had been far more in love with Viktor’s skating than Viktor himself. It had been all the media’s fault, anyways. Yuuri could see that now. The Viktor he loved when he was twelve was the one he had right now, even if he was far less enchanted by life.

He’d done his research, back when he was trying to figure out what ruined his performances in Juniors. When he was chasing endlessly after an ideal.

The checklist was easy enough to follow, even without directly asking Viktor any of the questions.

They were both just freak shows, except Viktor was far better at hiding it than Yuuri thought he’d ever be.

The shower cut off right as Yuuri’s stomach grumbled again.

The train to Hasetsu would come early in the morning, and anything safe to eat was certainly already closed.

Bland room service or fast food?

Out of the options, Yuuri really hoped Viktor would say fast food.

“What do you want for dinner? Ahh, we’re down to room service and fast food.”

This. This was something that Yuuri could look at forever. It was real, and it was everything he thought that he could ever want.

“Fast food? It’s been a long day. I know you get katsudon when we get back tomorrow, but I think that just one cheat day will be okay, especially since your special skill is dieting.”

(That earned Viktor his own pillow to the face. Score one to one. Even, again. Yuuri really didn’t owe Viktor that apology now.)

~.~

Cup of China, and Rostelecom. It would be easy enough to score something that would put him in a good place to qualify for the Grand Prix Final. Even just a bronze medal would be enough, for Yuuri. After all, Rostelecom was where it was going to count the most. Yuri would be there. Sure, Georgi and Christophe were here, but Viktor knew them, knew the way they trained and managed to pull spots in the Final.

Viktor knew that Yuuri could beat them, if he’d skate like no one was watching.

He’d learned that it was best to watch when Yuuri didn’t think he was around. It was the easiest way to figure out what he knew, and what he could do, without the failures that often plagued him when the pressure was resting on his shoulders.

But there was no reason to worry right this moment, because the competition didn’t start until the next morning. It was a night to build, not destroy.

“We’re going out for hotpot with Phichit and Celestino. I know, it’s not really the best. You’d probably rather hang out with your friends, but I’ve met them before. You’ve never really met my friends… and it’s the first chance I’ve had to see Phic in almost a year. Maybe, afterwards, we could do something… alone?”

It’s comic, how unsure of himself Yuuri is, even though they’ve been dating for over a month. Viktor can’t say that he feels any better, though. He still feels like he falls short, that there has to be someone out there that Yuuri can love just as much, who’s far more capable of knowing what to do when he panics.

He wonders if Yuuri feels the same on the mornings that Mari has to drag him out of his bed, on the days when he’s not sure that he’s anyone at all, let alone the Viktor Nikiforov.

At least they were working on it.

It was hard, to talk about it. It wasn’t something that he’d ever done, back in Russia. Yuuri had mentioned it might help, once, if he met Yuuri halfway with his own problems.

Opening up, it seemed, was far more difficult that media liked to portray it. He’d never believed it could be something so intimate, so personal. That was why it was easier to share surface things, the overwhelmingly visible things, and not the small ones.

“Yuuri, I would do anything for you. I… don’t… not like the idea. I just want to be… myself while we’re there.”

Shockingly, Yuuri closed the space, pulling Viktor into his arms with a sense of purpose. It was warm in his arms, and Viktor almost wished he never had to leave them. He couldn’t remember the last time someone other than Yuuri had done something so thoughtful for him. He knew why, in the end, no one ever reached out. The idea of the champion skater Viktor Nikiforov had always pushed them away. They expected him to be haughty and cruel, like a celebrity instead of a person.

He’d always hoped that when he left the ice, people would forget his name, the reputation built up around his name.  That couldn’t be the case, not when he was so close to the ice, and so freshly gone from it.

“I can go… by myself, that is. Then you can stay here, with at least a little relative anonymity. And then I can come back earlier, and we could… cuddle?”

Glancing up into Yuuri’s eyes tells him everything that he needs to know. It’s not the option that Yuuri wants, and really, it’s not want Viktor wants either. He wants to be able to show Yuuri off to the people that matter, and to the people that don’t.

It’s only one night, and it’s only two people. Surely, that means he can do something. Perhaps, this can be his new beginning.

“No, I want to be with you. I want to go too. Just let me get dressed.”

He considers dressing like he usually would, all designer brands, the only guilty pleasure of his career he doubts he’ll ever stop missing. Instead, he goes casual. It’s not a matter of surprising anyone, but a matter of the time and situation. There’s no reason to look like a million bucks to go out to eat.

In the end, it turns out to be nice. Yuuri starts by introducing him as ‘my boyfriend, Viktor’, and they constantly hold hands under the table. It felt almost like he was sixteen again, ready to take over the world.

He could even say he was happy, for once.

~.~

The way Viktor touches him is calming. There’s far more people here than before. Yuuri is sure that news of his and Viktor’s escapade has already hit news outlets, but he refuses to look. Viktor came for him of his own volition. Viktor agreed to date him, and they’re having the time of their lives. That’s all that matters. If they want to say he stole Viktor, that’s fine.

Yuuri knows now that it was those same reporters who sent Viktor running away from the thing he used to love. He can see the way that his boyfriend’s eyes light up when he’s skating at Ice Castle, away from the crowds, from public judgement. He knows that he still wants Viktor to come back to competitions. It’s selfish, he knows, but he’s never wanted anything more than to skate with Viktor, especially now.

Right now, he’s got a short program to finish.

On Love: Eros has never been more relevant. There’s moments when the world seems to stand still, and those are Yuuri’s favorite. Those are the moments he savors the most, because as strange as it still seems to be with Viktor, he’d never trade it for the world.

They haven’t talked about what to do, but this isn’t just a regional competition. There’s no reason to downgrade the original programs. He can make them harder in the future, he’s sure. By the time that Viktor’s done doting over his hair, they’ll barely be able to make it rink side before Yuuri’s behind on his program.

“I look fine, Vik-toor.”

“No, you look perfect Yuuuuri.”

It brings a fond smile to Yuuri’s lips. He’s got to do his best, for Viktor. After all, if he wins a gold medal here, it’ll only mean that he’s one step closer to bring Viktor home a pretty gold medal from the Final. To show him the time he’s put into coaxing Yuuri to keep going, to keep competing has been worth it. That he’s not the man the tabloids paint him as. That Viktor being himself is enough.

That’s what keeps him going.

It’s what sends him to the ice with every ounce of his being focused on being Eros, on holding Viktor’s love close and keeping it safe from the world.

Nothing matters more than showing Viktor just how much he cares.

When he gets to the Kiss and Cry, he doesn’t care to look at his score. It’s easier to curl back into Viktor, to kiss his cheek and remind him that everything he laid out on the ice had one recipient and one recipient alone.

The commentators made vague comments that go over his head. For as long as possible, he doesn’t want to think about where he is, just about all the things he wants to give Viktor.

The reporters, however, want to know the details of the first clean skate he’s ever had in the Grand Prix Series.

He could tell them, of course, but there’s certainly no fun in that. In these last few months, he’s learned how to live, far more than he ever had before. Yuuri’s certainly not got the megawatt smile that Viktor has, but he’s not afraid, now.

“Well, you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself. Thank you for your continuing support and interest in my career.”

And he walks away.

There’s far better things to do than talk to reporters for hours on end.

For one, he needs to go show Viktor just how honest he was being back there on the ice.

~.~

Devotion.

That’s what Viktor would call that feeling in his chest he can’t deny now. It’s been something out of a dream up until this point, watching and waiting and being with Yuuri. There’s nothing he could possibly want more. The king bed under him is too empty, but it won’t be for much longer. Soon enough, Yuuri will be out of the shower, and he can wrap his arms around him. Viktor was so lonely before, and even though he still feels lonely sometimes, as the days pass, he feels less and less lonely. Some days, he doesn’t want to climb out of bed, but okaasan coaxes him out, little by little.

That’s such a strange thought.

Hiroko and Toshiya and Mari, his family. He doesn’t know when they became who he thought of as family, but as strange as it is, it’s nice. In their own way, he supposes he thinks of Yakov and Lilia as family too. Yuri Plisetsky.

He wonders if his own family would still welcome him home with open arms.

He used to think that the hardest thing he ever did was let them go. To chase his dreams, even though he was young and dumb, and hurt them because they wanted him to stay. Now, he thinks it would be much harder to go back.

They’d love his Yuuri. Not for fixing him, because he was never broken. But for reminding him that he was human. That he was allowed bad days, that sometimes he could hurt too.

“Why are you crying?”

He reaches up, and oh, there are tears on his cheeks.

“I was just thinking. About going to visit my family, and how much they’d love you.”

Yuuri is warm when he pulls Viktor close. It probably looks a little silly, considering Yuuri is the shorter one in the relationship, but it’s what Viktor thinks he really needed, but would never have known how to ask for.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t turn you away if you wanted to stay for a while. It’s still some months until the off season, but I’ll go with you, if you want to go then. I know going home made me feel better when I was hurting.”

“Thank you.”

He’s a little lost for words. It seems too simple, like there’s a catch somewhere. But he’s over thinking it, now. Usually that’s Yuuri’s territory. It’s like that they fall asleep, tangled limbs and even breaths. The free skate will be another matter entirely, once Yuuri realizes he’s in first place. That’ll be a hurdle to jump when the time comes, but as he’s dozing off, Viktor feels like they’re immune to the woes of the world around them.

He'd quite like to just stay that way a while.

~.~

The panic is evident to Viktor, he hopes, because Yuuri doesn’t think that he can take this. Being the last to skate is surreal. The pressure is surreal. His nerves are telling him that he has to win, that they expect him to win now, after he did so well yesterday.

He hates it.

He hates it with every fiber of his being. Oh goodness, he’s going to be-

“Deep breaths. It’s not fun to get sick before you have to skate. Georgi did that once and wouldn’t stop complaining.”

It’s still strange to hear of the Russian team in such a passing manner. Then again, it’s still entirely unusual to have Viktor nearby at all times.

Speaking of which, it has to be Viktor whose hand is between his shoulders, leading him off and down the stairs, to an empty spot.

“There’s no reason to worry about those reporters. They don’t mean anything to anyone else. You’re the one that matters. To me, at least.”

The crowds are roaring upstairs, but suddenly, it doesn’t phase Yuuri quite like it did before. The only person he wants to impress is right there in front of him, after all.

The medals won’t matter if he can’t show Viktor how much he means it when he says he loves him. The program won’t be the simplified one that he practiced, but that’s okay.

Taking the risk is worth it. 

He steels his nerves as they go back up the stairs, hand in hand. He wants to ask for a good luck kiss, while they’re still alone, but that would defeat the purpose of the surprise.

If he holds on a little too long when he’s handing over his skate guards, no one has to notice.

It’s nowhere near the clean program that he skated the day before, but he’s out on the limb in the first place. After all, all the conflicting feelings in his head make it a lot harder to skate his best.

There’s still another competition to secure his place in the Final, and he’s already ahead if he just ends up on the podium at all.

The Final is where skating his best really matters, after all.

That’s where things might end after all.

Viktor never promised that he’d stay forever, but he promised him that long.

Right now, Yuuri can only prove that he’s worth of calling Viktor his boyfriend.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Flip.

Fall.

~.~

Viktor doesn’t know whether he wants to kiss Yuuri or kill him. After all, he should have seen something like that quad flip coming after Yuuri had gone so quiet, but he also can’t believe that Yuuri did something so intensive not only so late in the program, but when he knew there was a better chance of falling than landing.

But can he really yell? After all, it reminds him of all the times he did the same kind of thing to Yakov on impulse.

No broken bones, no foul, he supposes.

Who’s he kidding, anyway?

Yuuri went out there and risked broken bones for him.

And he breaks out into a sprint. He’s going to meet Yuuri rinkside and show him just how much that attempt meant.

(He can’t help wanting to check for bruises too. But that’s a little risqué. He can kiss those later, when taking Yuuri’s pants off isn’t considered scandalous. His face will have to do for now.)

It’s something of a messy kiss, far less controlled and perfect than he ever thought they’d be in public. He should hold back, but just when Viktor starts to pull back, it’s Yuuri whose pulling him in closer, perched on the blades of his skates, with his back pressed against the boards because he doesn’t want to stop.

“Ooooh~, Yuuri that’s so dirty!”

Then it’s over, but the cameras have moved in closer. This is the side of Yuuri that Viktor found at the banquet in Sochi, the one that very little of the public knows about.

This is the side of Yuuri that Viktor wants to keep all for himself, because he’s the only one who knows how to make Yuuri fall apart at the drop of a hat (or a Makkachin tissue case).

~.~

He doesn’t usually party, but he can’t say no to Phichit. It seems that all the other competitors, minus Georgi, have been coerced into celebrating Phichit’s gold, and even though he needs no praise, Yuuri’s own silver.

He wonders how Viktor feels about all this. Of course, it’s not the gold medal that he wanted to win, but it’s still something. That’s beside the point, though. He wants to know if it’s different, to be at a skater party without technically being a skater.

Yuuri won’t say anything about the glass in his hand though. He knows the alcohol will go to his brain if he keeps going, if he doesn’t transition to water once he’s feeling a little tipsy, but he’s so tired of wondering if he’s doing the right thing, if he’s doing enough that Viktor feels content with their relationship. Once the alcohol hits his brain, it won’t matter. All the things he’s so scared of won’t bother him anymore.

Perhaps Viktor has the same idea in mind.

He’s heard communication is the key to relationships, but the devil’s in the details. If the truth isn’t something you want to hear, things will fall apart whether they’re said aloud or not.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, after all.

Would Viktor really want to know Yuuri thinks about retiring day in and day out? That if he can pull the gold out of his ass, he’s giving it all up forever?

Probably not.

That was all he wanted, after all. He wanted to skate with Viktor, and he has that now. As much as Yuuri doesn’t want Viktor to leave, as hard as he tries to keep him around, he feels like he’s still not got a lot to offer in terms of a future.

Maybe Viktor is happier without the pressure of competition, but Yuuri is already doing everything he can to thrive. He won’t be able to evolve past winning the Final. He’s not surprising. No matter how hard he works, he knows the season that he wins gold will be his peak.

At least if he quits then, he quits while he’s ahead, he quits before Viktor realizes that he’s never going to be better than he was then.

This was supposed to be a party, but Yuuri never was much of the party type.

He trades his glass for a bottle of water, and he finds himself occupying a table in the club, rather than out with his friends gossiping and dancing.

Who’ll find him first?

Of course, it’s Viktor.

It’s always Viktor.

Then again, it’s always been Viktor.

~.~

It’s like a magnet, whatever draws him away from the dance floor. Christophe won’t miss him, he’s sure. Of course, as soon as he’s away from the crowd, it’s easy to tell where he’s gone, even without a hint of knowledge as to why before.

It’s Yuuri.

He looks so sad, for their last night in China. For winning silver.

With anyone else, he wouldn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t know what to say, what was going on. But this is Yuuri. They’re in the same boat.

He doesn’t know what to do either. About all this. Stepping back, he loves skating again. Like he did before. But he also loves Yuuri, and if being Yuuri’s coach is as close as he’ll ever get to the ice again, so be it.

He thinks he might drown in all these conflicting situations, emotions.

He feels like he’ll never be enough.

After all, nobody has been surprised by the things he’s done in years, and slowly, he lost sight of who he was.

A vessel for expectations, that’s all he’s been for years.

Viktor thinks it’d be quite nice for Viktor Nikiforov to be dead.

The idea. The brand. The expectations. What happened to the person?

His head hurts just thinking about it.

He sidles up next to Yuuri, presses his head into Yuuri’s hair.

It’s like all their tensions melt together and leave.

Together there, they’ve become a pile of skin and bones, impossibly close. It’s dark, and that makes it even harder to tell where Viktor ends and Yuuri begins.

The touch eases the ache in his soul just a little bit.

Morning comes too soon.

They’re groggy, climbing on planes with splitting headaches and massive hangovers. Fame and fortune aren’t nearly as fabulous as they seem to be.

Viktor really wishes that he’d known that back when he was sixteen. He wonders if that’s something that Yuuri wishes that he’d known too.

Maybe that’s something he can learn in the next few months.

~.~

His feet ache, but that’s nothing new.

Viktor rubbing his feet is. At least, rubbing his feet like this. It used to be methodical and practiced, something not quite technical and not quite intimate. It seems like they’ve progressed past some glass door since China. It feels like they’ve become something else.

It doesn’t quite feel real, even though they’ve been boyfriends for so long now.

Yuuri just dreads the day that all of this ends. He’s afraid that the end of the season will be the end of this relationship. It’s nothing like his crush of Yuuko. It had hurt, watching her get with Takeshi when they were younger, but he can’t imagine how much it would hurt to lose Viktor now. It’s not lust, it’s something so much stronger than that.

He thinks that he’d call it love.

Soon, it will be too cold to run outside, and he’ll have to run inside of Ice Castle instead. Makkachin won’t like that, because she won’t be able to come with. He might not hurt himself as much inside though, trapped by four walls. He can’t get as far before he realizes he needs to stop, because running inside is so much more boring.

This will be rare once again.

He wonders if that’s how love is. Abundant in fair weather, and rare in the cold.

The season is ramping up, and the pressure is on. He’s no longer in a spot that he can consistently do well. The expectations are higher, considering how well he’s done up until now. He wonders if Viktor expects more now, after China.

To Yuuri, it feels like everyone expects more now. After all, he’s dating Viktor. The person he could get by as in Detroit isn’t the same person he is now. Sometimes, change is good, but he’s not so sure now. It feels like he and Viktor are trapped in a constant stalemate, constantly trying to best one another in the relationship. They can’t find their halfway mark.

“Do you ever feel like we’re trying too hard?”

The hands on his feet stop moving, momentarily. “Sometimes. I’m not sure who I am anymore, so I often wonder if I’m trying to find myself or please you these days.”

It’s the closest Viktor has ever come to admitting he can’t make sense of his thoughts, that he hasn’t been able to in a long time.

“I’ll love you no matter what, you know that, right?”

Viktor glances up, away from his hands, and into Yuuri’s eyes. There’s no trace of contempt in his eyes, unlike all the people he’s let go of. Just love, like Yuuri said. The darkness that threatens to consume his thoughts is once again pushed away, put back into the corner of his mind where he can ignore it solong as he tries not to think about what could go wrong.

“It’s comforting to hear again, even if I did know that.”

All he ever sees online are the stories from the people who think that he should regret leaving competitive skating, who call him foolish for leaving his career at it’s peak. He could never regret leaving, and only regret not leaving sooner instead. Russia is not the most concerned about mental health, but he understands now why it matters so much.

Japan may not talk about mental health in the ways that America or Western Europe do, but it’s easy to tell that they stick up for their own.  He likes the way that it isn’t a big deal, that it’s left to be a personal and intimate thing. Somehow, it feels easier to understand just how much havoc has went on in his brain over the last five years without the constant fear of someone else finding out and forcing themselves into ‘fixing’ him.

“I understand that in Japanese culture using one’s given name is an extremely intimate act, but in Russia, it’s very… formal? I understand if it’s still too soon, but it would mean a lot to me if you could call me Vitya or Vityenka when we’re alone. Vitya is a little less intimate, more like friends would use, if you don’t want to rush…”

“Do you want me to call you Vityenka?”

“I… I’d like that a lot.”

“Come to bed now then, Vityenka. It’s late.”

Viktor swears that his cheeks flush as he crawls up to Yuuri. It takes them a moment to settle in under the covers, but once they settle, neither stays awake very long.

~.~

Russia seems so different from the last time he was there. When he left Sochi, Yuuri knew he was broken-hearted, and he felt like he’d always see Russia as the place where he shamed himself to the world. Now, with Viktor’s hand around his waist, it feels like something indescribable. The past has finally been left in the past, and he’s excited to show Viktor’s homeland the improvement he’s made since China.

At first, Yuuri had worried about the dirty looks they’d been getting. He’s changed his mind on that. They’re the ones who are at fault. He’s allowed to love Viktor just as much as he could ever love some girl. It’s not a choice. And it doesn’t matter.

That’s the biggest thing he’s come to realize since China. It doesn’t matter what anything thinks of how he lives, of who he chooses to care for. They matter to him, not to the public eye. Yuuri knows now how Viktor could have lived in the spotlight for so long: he grew a skin of nails, and let their words bounce off and deflate where they hit.

The good, the bad, the ugly.

No wonder Viktor was depressed. Feeling too much has to be better than feeling nothing at all. But they both know that it’s balance that makes the world just a little easier to understand, to tolerate. They’re still getting to that balance, but they get a little closer every day. After all, that’s what their exhibition skate is all about. If they couldn’t account for one another, the Stammi Vicino exhibition would never have worked.

Even if Yuuri knows no one will see it, knows somewhere deep down that winning gold is just wishful thinking, he’s proud of it. He’s proud to have made this work. Viktor was never a prize to be won, like so many gossip rags said. He was the gentle heart that deserved so much more than he’ll ever get, even though Yuuri tries his best.

The wind is chilly, but the hotel is right there.

“I miss having long hair when the wind is like this.”

“Cold?”

“No, gentle. It was just… well, I don’t know how you would describe it. Everything felt like it was left behind then, starting over. And it always made my hair look so pretty.”

“Well, you could always grow it out again. After all, now you have another set of hands to help brush out the tangles. The triplets say I’m very gentle.”

“Ah, too many bad memories in that right now. Maybe, in time, I’ll be comfortable with something like that again.”

Oh, how Yuuri wishes he could press on it, find out what made it so bad, but he knows where their limits stand. Pressing on something so clearly shut down is crossing boundaries.

Opening all the way up isn’t done in a day, after all.

And he needs some sleep anyway.

~.~

Yuri Plisetsky has changed from the time he visited Japan. He seems less angry, more determined.

It’s a good sign, in Viktor’s opinion.

It doesn’t matter if his Yuuri wins here or not, but Yuri needs the competition, for sure. A competition where he can grow, a competition skating against someone with all the skill he has. Viktor still remembers coming out of Juniors, of how the focus of his life went into learning how to win easily instead of enjoying the things he did.

Yuuri, he’s sure, moved out of Juniors and learned how to be complacent to what a coach thought was best, rather than trusting in his abilities. With Yuri, Viktor only hopes he can find the best of it all. Enjoying himself, using his skills, and even winning some.

Nikolai must be somewhere in the stands, for him not to notice Viktor’s blatant staring. He wishes he could stay to watch, to see just how Yuri has improved, but he knows that his skater needs him.

Yuuri needs all the love he can get before he panics. Keeping him out of his head is always the hardest part of coaching him.

“Are you ready?”

“My zipper’s stuck.”

“Okay, just a second.”

The locker room is empty, so Yuuri steps out of his stall and Viktor becomes hyper-aware of just how intimate the situation is. This costume was always finicky, but the program it originally went with is forgotten. Ever since Yuuri first put it on, the program he thinks of looking at the costume is always On Love: Eros.

He takes hold of the zipper with one hand, and lays the other against Yuuri’s back, holding the fabric taut. From there, the zipper is easy to get back on track. It seems like the moment is over before it’s even begun, but Yuuri turns, presses his forehead into Viktor’s chest.

“For you, only for you. That’s who I’m skating for today.”

It doesn’t seem like a lot, to most people. What’s four minutes worth of skating compared to a painting or a song that will last a lifetime? They all just fail to see what goes into those four minutes. The lust, the longing, the vulnerability. Skater have hearts like glass, and for Yuuri to so brazenly admit he’s skating for Viktor is a shocker. He’s metaphorically handed Viktor his heart, still beating, and asked him to put it back in his chest.

It’s nowhere near the same as the movies make relationships out to be, or even books for that matter. There’s more work that has to be put in, more effort that has to be put in to make things work out. Half hearted apologies just don’t work.

“When you’re skating, the only thing I ever watch is you.”

Yuuri goes pink, but it’s almost time for him to take the ice, so it’s not like Viktor can do anything about it. At least, not for the time being.

~.~

He doesn’t feel like he’s improved too much, but that’s just technical. After all, he knows eros now. He knows what it feels like to need someone so wholly. There’s nothing holding him back anymore from giving everything to the program. He knows now where the emotions come from, how they can consume someone so much.

That’s what Viktor means to him, and that’s what On Love: Erosis all about. At least, it is now. There’s no more thinking about it. He doesn’t have to try and remember the story, put himself in it. He only has to think about how he feels about Viktor.

Vityenka.

His Vityenka.

It’s so easy to stay calm now before going out on the ice, even though he knows that he’s got some fierce competition in Yuri Plisetsky.

He knows the moves inside and out, and it’s easy enough to think of Viktor.

Really, he doesn’t have to think at all. Viktor is all that ever fills his mind anymore.

It’s over before it ever really began.

He’s not sure how it ended so soon, but he can only hope it’s enough. The score eludes him in the kiss and cry, because he can only see Viktor’s smile. The one that’s not practiced, not emphasized for the best pictures and public consumption. It’s the one he sees at the onsen, in hotel rooms and out alone, in little known places where the paparazzi don’t follow.

It’s the smile that he loves the most.

They leave the rink in a matter of minutes after that, not worried about what comes after.

Yuuri put his heart on the line, and thinking about it now, so did Viktor. They’re still finding themselves, and right now, that means giving everything to one another.

The good and the bad.

And that means Viktor has to let him in too.

“What’s wrong, Vityenka?”

“It’s not a big deal Yuuri.”

“It’s bothering you, though. It must mean something.”

“Yakov is just still upset that I left. He’s the closest thing to family I’ve had in a while, so it makes it hard that he won’t talk to me.”

The hotel is still some ways away, and Yuuri’s sure that he’s sweaty and gross, but he pulls Viktor in close anyways. It makes walking harder, but that doesn’t matter. It matters more that Viktor feels okay.

That’s just part of a relationship to be taken in account.

~.~

The phone rings right as Yuuri is getting out of the shower, and he knows that it can’t be anything good. Mari would never call him at a competition if it wasn’t something urgent.

“Makkachin is at the vet because she got into the sticky buns and one got stuck in her throat. She’s in surgery right now, but nobody will tell me anything. Vicchan needs to know, at least. It’s still possible that she won’t make it.”

“Of course, onee-chan. I’ll let him know.”

Everything feels solemn as he steps out of the bathroom. Viktor already felt down, and now he has to break more bad news.

“Vityenka, I have something we need to talk about.”

It sounds awful, to put it like that, but this is about Makkachin, not about soft words.

“What is it?”

“Makka is in surgery, and it’s possible she won’t make it. She got into the sticky buns.”

It’s easy to tell that Viktor’s hurt by that.

“You should go back to Hasetsu to take care of her. I’ll be okay for the free skate. I know that when Vicchan died, I regretted not being there to be able to do anything for him. I couldn’t stand knowing that I was the reason you couldn’t be there for Makka.”

“Are you sure?”

“There’s nothing I could want more.”

~.~

Viktor’s heart is heavy, even sitting with Makkachin, knowing that things are looking good. He misses Yuuri in a way he can’t say that he’s missed anyone in a long time.

It’s not likely that Yuuri will even land on the podium if he panics. He’s got a good lead against Yuri Plisetsky, but the other skaters always show better in the free skate than the short program. It’s just how they train. Yuuri could have done the same, if only he’d been there.

But Viktor didn’t have the heart to tell Yuuri no, to stay when Makka’s life was on the line. Makka had been his only friend for a long time, the only friend he had between hell and high water. He couldn’t bear to lose her now when things were looking up, when things had finally started to mend themselves.

He was finally finding his way back to himself through Yuuri. He had someone to understand, and that was all he needed all along. Someone that would meet him where he stood, to help him finally find his way back out of the darkness that hadconsumed him all those years ago.

The onsen was quiet without Yuuri, in a way that he didn’t expect. Maybe it was just because it was late, and all the locals he usually spoke with were home, sleeping. He didn’t even know if the Katsuki family was still awake. Perhaps he should have been asleep as well.

The free skate would start soon, and Yuuri would be all alone. He should have stayed. He should have asked Yakov to watch him.

He should have done anything other than just pack and leave, but there was no changing was he’d done now.

He could only sit in front of his laptop and wait it out. He had to be confident for Yuuri, even so far away. It was all that could be done.

There was still a chance that Yuuri could place and guarantee his spot in the Final. But it didn’t matter if he won or not to Viktor.

As long as they could be together, anything would be enough. Yuuri had plenty of years left to win. And Viktor would gladly keep coaching him for as long as he wanted, if he only asked. It was nice to just be Viktor for once.

With coaching, there was far less media attention. Nobody cared what he did like they used to. He knew that there were still those die-hard fans out there, hanging on his every move, but it didn’t matter. Without all the cameras, all the time, he felt human again.

He felt alive again. And Yuuri was enough for that, no matter what he insisted.

He didn’t choose to fall in love, it just happened. Yuuri must have been something good for him, or he would never have fallen so hard so fast.

He just hoped he was good for Yuuri too.

~.~

Third. He’d placed third.

Just barely enough. But still enough. Yuuri had made it to the Final, but had anything else gone wrong, he might not have made it.

He wished he’d had Viktor there, beside him to celebrate. They’d be headed to Barcelona in a matter of weeks. This kind of performance would never cut it there. He’d have to do better.

He would do better.

That was a promise. It was the only way to prove that he was good enough for Viktor. The only way that they could skate together and Yuuri deserve to be on the same ice as him.

It was funny, how quickly plans changed. After all, he’d never expected to hit the ice this season, but he hadn’t the heart to turn Viktor away. He’d expected their relationship to remain purely professional, but a chance conversation on the beach changed everything. And now, he expected the night to be spent with Viktor, curled up, celebrating moving on to the Final or despairing about not making the cut.

Instead, Yuuri finds himself lost in the streets of Moscow. The city is far from alive at this hour, and all he can hope is that no bratva wants to mug a foreigner right now.

“Oi piggy, you lost?”

That’s… comforting, oddly enough. It’s the voice. Yuri Plisetsky, silver medalist.

“Something like that. Viktor helped me navigate the street signs…”

“SHUT UP! I don’t want to hear about that old fart. Just… tell me where you’re headed.”

Perhaps it’s not the easiest way to get to the hotel, but it’s what he’s got with a dead phone and no cash. So Yuuri rattles off the address and pretends that the yelling in his ear doesn’t bother him all the way back to the hotel that he’s staying at, just until he’s got to catch his flight back to Viktor… back to Hatsetsu.  

It’s halfway into the lobby that someone nudges his shoulder.

“Take it, piggy. Grandpa made them, but there’s too many for me. So happy birthday, I guess.”

The brown paper sack is shoved into his hands, and by the time Yuuri blinks, Yuri Plisetsky has disappeared into the dark of the night.

~.~

The lead up to Barcelona is nothing but a waiting game. It’s all he can think about, just sitting there, waiting.

The plane is behind schedule, or Yuuri could quell his fears. Yuuri could do anything and it would make him feel better.

After all, it’s like all is lost when it’s just him alone in his head, faced with the reality of what he’s done. Of all the people he’s cut off who just wanted to care for him.

Of Yakov and Lilia, the closest thing to parents he’d known for years.

Of Makkachin, of her mortality.

Of Georgi and Mila, the hockey players. All his rinkmates that inevitably gave up ever trying to truly befriend him, because he was content to brush them off.

Yuuri saw through the mask.

Yuuri saw Viktor for the man he was really, not the god that the magazines created.

Just thinking about that makes him want to break down into tears.

But he doesn’t.

After all, Yuuri deserves a happy homecoming.

He puts on a smile, somewhere between his real smile and his media smile. And when Yuuri, luggage and all, is in his arms, he doesn’t ever want to let go again.

“Promise me this doesn’t have to end in Barcelona. Promise me this is real.”

“Be my coach until I retire then.”

It doesn’t quell any of his worries. Viktor saw Yuuri’s worst season, and he can only imagine that if Yuuri can best it, he’ll still let go of everything he worked for. So, he takes the risk, for better or for worse.

“Is that a marriage proposal?”

Yuuri turns bright pink, but the look on his face is enough to tell what he’ll say.

“Maybe it is Vityenka, maybe it is.”

~.~

Barcelona, Spain. A city for tourists, and a city where Christmas must start on December 1st if all the decorations mean anything.

The city where everything could end.

Viktor’s never considered himself very religious, but if Cod was watching, he was begging not to have Yuuri taken away.

Hasetsu became home when Yuuri became a home. His home. Nothing mattered more.

It was easy to pretend when Yuuri was at peace, sleeping. It was easy to pretend without medals and expectations. It was easy to breathe.

He’d found his place in the world, somewhere between the shadows and the sun, where he belonged.

Tears slid down his cheeks, because it was all too close to the end.

The good die young.

Perhaps the same could be said of him.

After all, what else could he give Yuuri to offset all the baggage he carried if this was the year they took gold together?

His love was all he had that was real.

It hurt to think about.

~.~

There was plenty to do, but most importantly, he needed to show Viktor how serious he’d been.

After all, he couldn’t let this end without trying.

He couldn’t let Viktor go after all the ups and downs. They’d made something special out of nothing, out of empty eyes and overprotective thoughts, and he’d be damned to lose it now.

Win or lose, Yuuri was going to keep Viktor at his side.

Nothing mattered more.

The competition was the least of his worries. He knew the routine, knew just how it felt to lust, to long, to love. This part was far more difficult.

They’d all know, after this. Everyone.

But it didn’t matter. He’d never choose anyone else.

For better or for worse, he was ready to make it real.

Thank goodness Viktor loved his expensive brands. After all, Yuuri doubted he’d ever find the right district of town if not.

He might not of deserved something so fancy, but Viktor deserved the world. And if that meant custom, gold rings, he’d sell both his legs to pay for them.

Before, marriage had seemed like something that would never find him, that would never truly be something he’d miss having.

Now, he couldn’t imagine not marrying Viktor. Vityenka. His Vityenka.

He couldn’t imagine not making their love forever.

~.~

His old life ends in front of a cathedral in Barcelona, Spain.

Now, he feels alive, gold ring glinting in the strings of lights twinkling on every building in sight.

It’s not forever yet, but it will be soon.

His love affair with the ice, with the feeling of flying, was never like this. It took and took and took, and only ever gave empty promises.

It doesn’t matter what will happen at the Grand Prix Final. He’s marrying Yuuri, his Yurasha, and that’s it.

He’s going to call his mother and tell her he’s sorry that he left her behind. He’s going to tell Yakov that it was nothing personal, him leaving, but that he had to find the man he left behind, and that he’s better for it.

Marriage is always compared to imprisonment, but Viktor feels more free than he’s ever felt.

This love means everything to him, to Yuuri. It’s enough.

No matter where they go from here, it’s enough.

After all, theirs is the kind of love that can’t be stopped. The kind of love that will move mountains, so they can be together once again.

Forever.

Under Christmas lights, in the snow, two men kiss.

It’s frenzied, fast, and filled with passion.

They don’t know what happens next, but they don’t care.

They have each other, after all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Art] the spot next to you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14976500) by [SasTMK (OutOfLuck)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OutOfLuck/pseuds/SasTMK)




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